


His origin story

by Oriknitsmitts4me



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cute Daryl, M/M, New original characters, not finished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oriknitsmitts4me/pseuds/Oriknitsmitts4me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NOT FINISHED, but I might work on it later. Really cute fic about how Daryl rescues a gay couple, and takes them back to the prison. But, Rick the homophobe, has something to say about it. That brings up memories Daryl had rather he'd forgotten</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> COMMENT, I try and answer all comments!! Plus-if you suggest something I should add, I most likely will!

Daryl had found them in the basement of a posh house in the city. It had been trashed by walkers, but Daryl could recognize that it had once been a well kept and well loved house. He had heard something like a squeak and a shuffle. At first he thought it was a walker, but it sounded like whispering. He had knocked on the door, and had called out asking if they were alive. There were gasps of  joy, and two young men had poked their heads around the corner, peering up the stairwell. Daryl hesitantly waved them up the stairs. They exchanged a look of relief and bolted up, nearly knocking Daryl down with a hug. "OH THANK GOD." The gangly brunette man gasped, clinging to Daryl's shoulders. "We thought everyone was dead. Dead or worse." Said the shorter, freckled redhead. Daryl kind of froze, not really knowing what to do. They just kind of....clung. He cleared his throat softly, and the two bounded back. "Omigosh I'm so sorry!" The redhead began, "it's just, you're the first person we've seen in 4 months." He clarified. Daryl nodded and looked down towards the basement. "You were down there for 4 months?" He asked, looking between them. "....yes and no." The tall one said. "But we haven't left the house. When the....uh, things broke down the door, we hid. We had stockpiled food...but we were running out." "We are so grateful. We were sure everyone else was dead." Said the freckled one. Daryl nodded awkwardly. "Well, I only have my motor bike. You'll have to either ride with me back or find a car." "You mean..?" Said the redhead, "you'll take us with you???" Daryl frowned at him. "Duh, ginger. I'll find you boys some helmets." He said gruffly, "stay here and grab some stuff if you want to bring it. Only what you need." He instructed, leaving.

He returned a few minutes later with helmets  after raiding a garage across the street. There was no way he was gonna put those two in danger if they all had to ride on his chopper. When he got back, each of the guys had a mid sized backpack with them, complete with water bottles and flashlights. Daryl nodded his appreciation and directed them outside. He led them to his bike. "What's your name?" The brunette asked, clipping on his helmet. "Daryl." Daryl said, passing both of them a sturdy coat for the wind. "I'm Andy." Said the tall one, Daryl nodded, clasping his outstretched hand and shaking it firmly. "I'm Mike." Said the redhead. "But we call him Mikey." Said Andy, ruffling Mike's hair. Mike squirmed away playfully and Daryl shook his hand too. "You'll have to sit in front of me, Mike, because you're smaller, and Andy, you'll have to sit behind me." Daryl instructed. Mikey blushed a bit, but climbed on to the tank of the bike, caged safely between Daryl's arms. Andy clambered on behind Daryl and squeezed his middle, momentarily pressing his palm to Mike's back, before threading his fingers back together. Daryl frowned, confused for a moment, but nudged Mike lightly. "Grab the front, so you're steady." He told him, and Mike quickly held the metal near the headlight. Daryl revved the bike and shot down the intersection, towards their group.

They had to stop and take cover behind a buildup of cars while a group of walkers passed. "So," Daryl started, glancing between them. "Are you roommates or friends, or what?" He asked, eyeing them curiously. Andy and Mike exchanged a look, a fearful look. "I mean, I don't mean to pry or nothin'!" Daryl backpedaled. Andy shook his head. "No no no, it's not that, uh, it's just. Hemm." He stalled, eyes on the ground. "I'm his boyfriend." Mike announced, chin tilted up in defiance. Daryl nodded. "Awesome." He said, nodding to mike in respect. Mike nodded back. Mike scooted back and clung to Andy's arm, resting his head on his chest and sighing. Daryl felt a hot flash of jealousy, just for a moment, under his ribs, crackling like a hot fire. Then it was gone, no trace of ever having occurred. He peered around the hood of the car. "They've gone." He declared, motioning the two out.

They reached the prison in good time, the sun barely setting. Michonne unbolted the gate and welcomed them. Daryl gave her a brief but epic fist bump, and they all trooped inside. Daryl introduced them in a gruff but gentlemanly fashion. Carol waved them in and made a fuss over the young men, getting them hot drinks and fresh clothes in their sizes. Only, Andy was so tall and thin, his new shirt showed a bit of his toned midriff, and Mike was so small his sleeves were too long and flapped adorably at his sides. Andy blushed with embarrassment, but Carol promised him she'd find him a longer shirt. Mike had a heck of a good time just flapping the sleeves around and giggling, saying hi to everyone and enjoying his hot chocolate. "Lucky." Andy grumbled, tugging his shirt down fruitlessly.

Rick stomped into the main hall. He glared at Daryl menacingly. Daryl quirked an eyebrow. "Problem, sheriff?" He asked sassily. Rick frowned. "Why did you bring them?" He asked pointedly, flicking his eyes towards Andy and Mike, who happened to be giggling and whispering closely. "Why not?" Daryl asked, "They brought supplies, and they're polite, unlike SOME." Rick glared more at the last comment, the subtext heavily implied. "Daryl here is a miracle!" Andy exclaimed, bouncing to Daryl's side. "He saved us right in the nick of time! Why, if he hadn't-" "I don't want the likes of you here." Rick chastised, cutting Andy off. Andy was a little taken aback, and cast a wary side glance at Daryl. Daryl turned to Rick. "They ain't bein kicked out, Rick." He clarified, standing squarely. "I found em. Imma say if they gotta leave." Ricks glared turned into the gaze of death. "Well they can't stay in our cell block." He tried lamely. "Yes they are." Daryl said dismissively, turning and striding away, motioning the two to follow him. "Let's get you lot set up." He said haughtily.

Daryl decided the two would be better off on his floor, away from Rick, and his stupid judgy attitude. "This cell's two down from mine if y'all need a walker killed. But don't come runnin to me for a glass'a water or nothin when I'm gettin my beauty sleep." Daryl instructed sternly. They nodded. "Thanks, man, for, you know, sticking up for us. It means everything." Mike told him, big green eyes sincere. Daryl nodded, looking at the ground. He swiftly turned and went into his own cell, cheeks burning. He felt pangs of....something. Deep in his chest. Jealousy? Longing? Loneliness?

Daryl ate supper quietly, seated next to Andy and Mike, as if shielding them from Rick. He retired early, and urged the couple to do the same. He assured he was a light sleeper, and were anything to happen, he was right there. He crawled beneath his covers and turned towards the wall. He closed his eyes, willing sleep to settle quickly. No such decency. He tossed and turned, each bead of sweat, each twist of the blanket, another bad memory came to light.

He was 15. A youthful, inquisitive, clever young man. A little scrawny, but no less handsome. And a bit of a dreamer. It had been a very warm summer, hotter than normal, even in Georgia. School was about to end for that year, and Daryl didn't have many plans for summer. Merle was 25 already, and didn't want to hang out with his scrawny lil brother. So Daryl had lots of time on his hands, and no one to spend it with. No girlfriend, and few friends. He was a bit of an outcast: feared and respected. He had never liked it. But being the brother of Merle Dixon did that. He spent most of his time hunting or studying, passing all his exams with ease.

Daryl hadn't ever felt he was able to fit in. The other boys talked about girls and dates and movies. Daryl could never afford to go to the cinema. His dad spent every extra penny on booze. And he had never seen the appeal of girls. They just didn't spark any interest. He tinkered on his motor bike and kept to himself most afternoons. Except one day.

He remembered it only to clearly. He was walking home, the day school had ended. Daryl had heard raised voices and the shrieks of someone in trouble. A boy. Daryl had snuck around and spied a group of 4 other boys, boys from his class, surrounding a smaller boy. Daryl recognized him. He was in his grade, his class. The quiet kid that sat near the windows and doodled in his notebook. He was a shrimpy kid, 5'4 at most, half Japanese, thin as a beanpole, with beautiful wavy black hair, and coal black eyes that saw right through you. He was being shoved against a wall, his rucksack tossed far from him. He was whimpering, madly attempting to bat away the other boys hands as they pushed him. They were laughing, taunting. Daryl could hear pieces of dialogue. "Little pansy-ass, that's what I reckon." One of the tall boys had sneered, yanking a handful of the small boy's hair, invoking a small shriek in return. "How 'bout it, Asia? You a lil puff? A fairy?" Another taunted, shoving him hard against the wall. The boy didn't fight back, he just began to sob, begging them to let him go. "Please." Daryl heard him say, "please I just want to go home." This caused a round of cruel laughter. "What, so you can see your pansy-ass boyfriend? Huh?" Came the jeers, and the torment increased tenfold. They were hitting him now, shoving him from one to another like a round of catch. "Catch the queer, catch the queer!" They sang out as he weeped. Then hands began to roam, over the poor boys torso and shoulders as he shrieked and sobbed. "We could teach him a lesson!" One shouted. "Yeah! Teach him what being gay REALLY feels like." Another sniggered. They had shoved him onto the ground and had even started on their belts when Daryl couldn't stand it. "Hey, you bastard sons of bitches!!" He had shouted, storming over in a sweep of fury. "How fuckin dare you!! You get your rapist little asses back to yer Mama's before I skin you!" He had hollered, causing the group to abandon their conquest and flee for their lives. Daryl felt like chasing after them, but muffled sobs made him turn.

The boy was lying with his forehead pressed to the pavement, trying not to cry. Daryl knelt down and very gently placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hey, kid, what's your name?" He asked softly, so not to alarm him. "Alexis." The boy had choked. "Ok, it's gonna be ok, Alexis, I'm gonna walk you home." Daryl had comforted. Alexis had turned his tear stained face up to look at him. "Really?" He asked, wiping away the salt and grit. Daryl took the hem of his shirt and cleaned his cheeks. "I'm gonna make sure those bastards never hurt you again." Daryl had promised, helping him to his feet. He dusted the smaller boy off and fetched his backpack.

As they walked, Daryl couldn't help but ask. "Why didn't you fight back?" He inquired, trying to make conversation. Alexis kept his eyes on the ground. "Because." Was all he said. Daryl Rolled his eyes. "Don't make me play that 'because why' game, kid, my tolerance level is very low." "Because it's true." Was the very quiet reply. Daryl continued walking, mind racing. "What is?" He asked, not picking out anything specific that comment related to. "I'm gay, and I didn't want to hide it anymore." Alexis whispered. Daryl stopped him, grabbed his shoulders with his hands and looked him straight in the eye. "You shouldn't have to. If they ever bother you again, you holler for me, hear me?" He asked, lightly shaking his shoulders. Alexis nodded, sniffling. Daryl nodded back, satisfied. He had walked Alexis the rest of the way home, dropping him off at the door. "Hey." Alexis had called after him, "if you wanna hang out sometime...?" He asked hesitantly. Daryl nodded and waved goodbye.

Daryl rolled again in a futile attempt to find a more comfortable position on his cot. The cell seemed too hot, too small. He bounded up and grabbed his crossbow, sweeping his ever-lengthening hair out of his eyes. He strut to the watch tower. Glenn was sitting up, gun trained, but eyes glazed. "Glenn." Daryl whispered, startling the boy out of his haze. "Sorry sorry, just thinking is all." Glenn apologized. "Doesn't Maggie have watch with you?" Daryl asked, leaning on the railing. "We broke up." Glenn muttered. "Sorry, Korea." Daryl tried to comfort. "It's cool, man. We weren't really working anyway." Glenn told him. Daryl nodded sympathetically. "I'll take this watch." He told Glenn, shouldering his crossbow and taking the rifle. Glenn yawned and nodded his thanks, trekking back to his cell. Daryl sat and trained the scope on the walkers around the fence, his mind wandering.......

**  
  
**

Daryl had begun to hang out with Alexis more and more. At the park, on their bikes, he even helped Alexis on his mail route, in return for getting a small cut of the earnings. He didn't make a big deal of it, but Alexis was always afraid someone would tease Daryl for hanging out with him. They always hung out alone, the two of them against the world. Daryl would turn 16 at the end of the summer, and Alexis decided to get him something, as a thank you. As a "thanks for saving me and being my friend/birthday" present. He had no ideas. Daryl was hard to get anything for. He came from a poor redneck family, with no television or gameboys or anything. And from what Alexis could tell, his dad was in a bad way. He would probably hawk anything of value if he found it.

Daryl remembered the present. It was probably long gone by now. He hadn't been able to get it when Merle and he had left to flee the walkers. It had been the best birthday Daryl could remember. It hadn't been just one present either.

Daryl had carefully picked away at the tape of the shiny red wrapping paper-determined to reuse it somehow. The box was midsized, a little bigger than a lunch box. He opened it slowly. On the top there was a pair of warm red wool gloves, and a matching hat. Beneath that was a mending set, and beneath that, coupons. All kinds, from food to school supplies. And at the very bottom, was a slim box. Leather. He opened it gently. Inside was a shiny, brand new, bright red, Swiss Army knife. With the knives and scissors and bottle opener and corkscrew and screwdrivers and everything. Daryl had been speechless. For a whole minute he sat in silence just staring at the beautiful little red tool. Then he had placed the box to the side and tackle hugged Alexis to the ground, spewing his thanks in slurs of joy.

After that, they began to hang out even more. Everyday. At all hours, even late into the evening. One night, around ten, Daryl's father left to the pub. Daryl invited Alexis over, and they sat in his basement bedroom and played cards, just talking and laughing. After a little while, the conversation dwindled, then silenced. They sat across from each other, the air heavy and hot. Daryl could feel the pull, the force gravitating him towards the boy in front of him.

He felt Alexis's breath ghost across his face, his soft, silky hair slide through his fingers. His soft lips against his own. Alexis's fingers gripping his collar, pulling him close, crushing their mouths together. The kiss was hot, and close, and exhilarating. daryl could really tell what was going on or why exactly, but he could feel Alexis’s lips and that was all he needed right then. Alexis paused and took a breath, grinning in embarrassment. Daryl didn't know what to say. I love you? Thanks? You're a great kisser? None of those were right.

"We can't do this again." Alexis said, breaking the kiss. "What?" Daryl demanded. "Why not??" "Your family, they might...Daryl they could hurt you. Or me." Alexis said, wrapping his arms around Daryl's shoulders, burying his face into Daryl's neck. Daryl wrapped his arms around Alexis's shoulders and sighed. "I'll walk you home." He told him.

Merle and his father never found out about Daryl and Alexis. But when Merle had heard there was a gay boy in Daryl's class one day he nearly tried to beat the information out of Daryl to find out who it was. He swore up and down if he found out who it was there'd be blood. Daryl was secretly glad Alexis had called it off, for both their safety.

Daryl swung the scope of the gun around the perimeter again, keeping his ears pricked up for movement. Finding none, he waited as the next person came to replace him. Maggie took his place and shouldered the gun, grim silence around her. Daryl frowned out of concern for her and Glenn, but continued down to the main hall again. He found Andy and Mike sitting with Carol eating breakfast, but on high alert and glancing towards Rick every so often. Daryl took his breakfast and sat with them, his demeanor silent but comforting.

 


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life back in prison

“You boys stick with me or Carol today, y’hear? But don't be afraid of old Hershel either.” Daryl told them quietly. The two of them nodded, smiling shyly. Daryl planned on counting inventory and cleaning some of the armory that day. And patrol.   
He finished breakfast and carol promised to walk the two new recruits to the inventory after they had finished. 

Daryl was slow to the storage room. He was anxious about leaving Andy and Mike with Rick, even with Carol with them. He knew the rest of the group was keen to keep them safe, even old Hershel-which had come as a bit of a surprise-but Rick had a way of talking everyone into seeing something his way. Daryl didn't mind so much when it meant safety for the group, but sometimes Rick abused the power of being the leader. Decisions Rick thought he was making for the good of the group which in reality were half-planned suicidal attempts that revolved around a selfish whim. 

He had reached the storage room when he heard Carol and the boys making their way towards him. Daryl sighed, relieved, and put his crossbow on the bench and went out greet them. 

“Took y’all long enough.” He grumbled good naturedly. He smiled at Carol and she winked back at him, turning and making her way back to the dining hall. He led Andy and Mike into the storeroom and began to tell them what to count and where to take note of it. They pleasantly chatted while they worked. 

“Mike used to work as the manager of whole foods, if you can believe that, and I was a personal trainer and part time boxing coach.” Andy told Daryl as he restacked boxes of poptarts. “I think I succeeded more as a coach because of my height and that people assume I know how to fight and do sports and stuff because I'm black, but I was actually a gymnast for most of my life. I had to become a coach when I dislocated my shoulder and tore a muscle, so I started studying to become a trainer.”

“At least you can get away from the undead.” Mike told him, kicking another box towards him and writing the total on a piece of paper. “You could do a triple flip over them or whatever. I can't even get on top of a car for Christsakes.” He complained, trying to reach up far enough to put away his own box. 

“That's your fault for eating no vegetables as a kid and starting to drink coffee when you were ten. You stunted your own self.” Andy told him, taking the box and putting it away. Daryl scoffed. “You could drink coffee?” He asked, “I hated it.” 

“Hey, when you're staying up all night reading, and then have to go to school.” Mike explained, giving up on reaching the shelves and settling for handing the boxes to Andy instead. “It's alright, anyway. You'd have no idea how many chicks dig short guys.”

Daryl turned his head back to the couple. “I thought you were-” he nodded towards Andy. 

“Gay?” Mike asked. “No, I'm bi, Andy’s gay.” Daryl frowned at the floor, searching his vocabulary. “Bi..?” He mumbled, trying not to look stupid. 

“Urmm,” Mike rubbed his temple awkwardly, “y’know, umm, when you like two or more genders…” He trailed off hesitantly, glancing at Andy, worried. Daryl still frowned, looking up. Then it clicked-he remembered Merle mentioning it a couple years back, but he had been talking about porn in that case. 

“Ohhhh, yep I've heard of that. Once. Vaguely.” He back peddled, embarrassed suddenly. Mike sighed, relieved. 

“What about you?” Andy asked casually, taking more boxes from Mike. “What was your life like before the….Apocalypse?”

“Not...very different….I guess? I grew up with my older brother and my dad, in the sticks. Moved a lot. Old man drank a lot. Went hunting a lot. Not that different from now, I guess.” He told them, calmly sifting through a box of ammunition. 

“Only change now is not paying taxes.” He chuckled. “And Merle is…well, he got what was comin’ to him.” He said more seriously. 

“I'm sorry Daryl.” He heard Andy say behind him. “I couldn't get ahold of my family. I hope they're somewhere safe, but, looking around here...so few of...you…” Daryl turned back to face them and Andy hurriedly scrubbed at his eyes. 

“Whatever.” Daryl said gruffly. “We’re about done here, we should do a patrol, then we can break for lunch


End file.
